Supernatural Syndicate: A Limited Edition Collection of Magical Mafia Stories

by Thea Atkinson

  I grimaced at the statement but continued on, rubbing my hands together as if this was the best news I’d had all night. Instead, I wanted to just end it right then and there, and in hindsight, I wish I had.

  He sat me at the head of the table, a space usually designated for him, and sat my brother beside me. Across the table from me sat a girl I’d never seen before. She looked completely out of place, dressed in an elegant gown that hung loosely on small delicate shoulders. She looked young, but so did most women in high school. It was the one thing I found unattractive about them. I preferred older women, women with a lot more experience than anyone my age could bring to a relationship. But looking at the girl now, I couldn’t help but admit she was beautiful. Her skin was a golden brown. It was a perfect contrast to the silky black curls that graced her small shoulders. And when she peaked up at me with those beautiful hazel eyes, my heart almost dropped in my chest.

  I thought back to every class I’d ever attended, wondering how I could have missed her. But before I could think any further, a plate was set before me and my brother.

  Portabello ravioli with a rich mushroom sauce. It was hardly my favorite but my brother’s eyes lit up as they devoured the plate before him. As usual, father had mixed us up, but that wasn’t uncommon for a man raising twins. Either way, I sunk my fork into a piece of pasta and brought it to my mouth, before glancing up at the girl again. No plate had been set in front of her, but I could tell she was hungry by the way she glanced over at our plates with longing in those rich hazel eyes.

  “Why isn’t she eating?” I asked my father, who’d taken a seat opposite Vincent.

  He shoveled a forkful of pasta in his mouth, chewing loudly as he replied. “Her father owes me a great debt. We’ll talk about that later.”

  “Surely we can give her something,” I said, dropping my fork.

  The cling of the metal against the porcelain plate made the girl jump and I couldn’t help thinking about how odd that was. If I were honest, the entire thing was odd. It wasn’t like Father to bring his work to the dinner table, especially on a special occasion but there she was.

  I picked up my plate and stood.

  Before I could take a step, my father grabbed my arm in a tight grip. “Don’t.”

  “It’s my birthday right?”

  He gave me a nod and released my arm. “You’re probably right. She should eat. She’ll need the energy.”

  Those words didn’t sit right with me at the time but I shoved them away as I walked across the room and deposited my plate in front of her.

  She shook her head the instant it hit the table.

  “I insist.”

  She pushed the plate away from her, but I could tell it took a great deal of effort on her part. She glanced over to Father before lowering her gaze.

  “Just take the damn food. The man insisted,” my father said.

  When she hesitated, Father hit the table with his fist, hard enough the damn thing trembled.

  “Eat the fucking food.”

  This time she didn’t even hesitate. She pulled the plate close, picked up my discarded fork and stabbed at a piece of pasta.

  I frowned at the terrified look in her eyes as she took another bite of food into her small mouth. My father always had a way of scaring the shit out of people but I couldn’t imagine anything she could have done to deserve this treatment. She looked sweet, innocent, like the kind of person who would give you their last scrap of food if you asked.

  Forcing my eyes away from her, I returned to my seat as my father summoned the server to prepare me another plate. But when it was delivered, I found I was no longer hungry. Instead, my gaze continued to shift between Father and the girl. Father gave me a satisfied grin, one that told me he appreciated the attention I was giving the girl, and it made my gut clench. There was something sinister in his demeanor, something cold and calculating but I pushed that thought away. Regardless of his plans, my brother and I were leaving that night, even if we had to sneak away to do so.

  My mind was on our mission as we went through the motions for the evening. Father produced the bottle of bourbon and filled a glass before setting it before me. In no mood to argue, I consumed the disgusting liquid, trying my best to keep it down. How anyone could enjoy it was beyond me, at least until I began to feel the effects of it.

  “That’s some pretty good shit, isn’t it son?” Father asked, pouring me another glass.

  I nodded my approval and raised my glass to my brother, a silent cheers to our future away from Father, free to do as we pleased. Vincent never touched his glass. Instead, he sat there looking every bit as uncomfortable as the girl on the opposite end of the table.

  “Vincent, I think it’s time for you to head up to bed. There are things I’d like to discuss with Vic.” Father stood from his seat and walked around me toward my brother. Vincent stood and hugged him, casting me a wary glance. I knew he was concerned about our plans for the evening and hoped I’d change my mind, but I wouldn’t. Not if it meant Vincent would be able to live a more fulfilling life outside of my father’s criminal enterprise.

  I tossed him a meaningful glance before he gave me his back and exited the room, his shoulders slumped forward. I knew he was afraid and he had every right to be. Father was a mean son of a bitch but I added that to the growing list of reasons we needed to leave.

  Once Vincent was gone, I stood from my own seat, pushing it back under the table. “I’m tired. I think I’ll head up too.”

  “Nonsense,” Father said with a chuckle that caused his large frame to shake. “Your night has just begun my son.”

  He waved the girl over, using his other hand to clap me on the back. She stood from her seat, dutiful yet timid. I could see a sheen of tears moisten her eyes as she followed his instructions. Once she was at his side, she lowered her gaze toward her feet, placing her hands behind her back.

  “June, this is Victor. You will show him a good time tonight.”

  She gave a tight nod, her hazel eyes meeting mine briefly, and for a moment I thought I saw fear in them. That fear flitted away as quickly as it came, replaced with a blank stare that belied the slight tremble of her lower lip.

  “I really am tired,” I said, as her gaze slid back to the floor.

  She relaxed at those words and for the first time that evening, I realized she’d been tense the entire time. I wondered what my father had in mind but quickly dismissed that thought. No matter what it was, those plans would be ruined.

  “Victor, you’re being rude to our guest, a guest whose father owes me a great deal of money. June here has agreed to show you a decent time in exchange for her father’s life. The least you could do is be hospitable.”

  I’m not sure whether it was the alcohol or the harsh tone of his voice that made me agree to it, but whatever it was, I wanted to get it over with. I had no doubt Vincent was in his room, gathering up everything he needed to survive the next few days on the run so I needed to make this quick.

  I gave Father a nod.

  “Ha! I’ll make a man of you yet.” He walked over to the bar cart in the corner of the room and picked up a glass decanter and two glasses. Setting them on the dining room table, he filled them both before handing them to us.

  June took the glass with hands that trembled so violently I was afraid she’d spill her drink. Father must have noticed this as well because he shoved a beefy finger in her direction.

  “You better not waste one drop. This bourbon is worth more than your entire family and I’ll see to it…”

  Before he could continue, she raised the glass to her full lips and emptied it, the tremble all but forgotten. With a smile, he reached for her glass, plucking it from her hands before refilling it. Handing it back to her, he gave her a grin that showed he was impressed. If I was being honest, I was also impressed. His bourbon was harsh on the throat and chest, yet she took it down easily, without complaint. I wondered where she’d learned to drink like that but that thought passed
quickly as my father passed me a questioning glance.

  I knew what that look meant. No son of his would be outdone by some chick. I lifted the glass to my lips and the acrid smell nearly had me choking as it did every time I drank. But fuck it. I’d already emptied a few glasses earlier and he was right. If she could do it, so could I. I emptied my glass and handed it back to him for a refill, knowing at this point I’d be far too drunk to carry out the plans I’d made with Vincent. I shook away that thought. Drunk or not, we were leaving and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

  He refilled the glass before handing it to me, his eyes darting between June and me. “I’m going to leave you two alone. Maybe you can give her a tour of the house, Victor? After all, I’m sure she’ll never have the pleasure of enjoying the finer things in life again after today.”

  I flinched at the hateful tone as he stalked out of the dining room, leaving us there alone.

  Thinking back on that night, I’d been a fool. I had no clue of his plans, no clue of the lengths he’d go to earn my loyalty, no clue of a depravity my father wanted me to commit to. But now, thinking back on the blood and tears of that night, along with the effect it had on my brother, I wish I would have killed him instead of trying to run. At least then my brother would still have his mind and our girl would never have been hurt.

  1

  Victor

  They say one moment could set the course of the rest of your life.

  One moment.

  One choice.

  One thing that felt so insignificant and fleeting at the time, yet has made a profound mark on your life. A moment I couldn’t escape, no matter how hard I’ve tried. I wanted to save my brother, to drag him from the clutches of the man we called father, a man so depraved his evil had darkened our lives for years. To keep my brother away from the life, away from the darkness that pressed upon me daily. The dark tasks laid at my feet. The sight of life slipping from a dying man’s eyes after I’d pulled the trigger, shredding me of any humanity I had left.

  I didn’t want that for him, yet I’d dragged him into my world at the weakest moment of my life, the moment I’d done the one thing there was no coming back from.

  I looked over at Vincent, noticing his quick intake of breath as he watched the object of our affections strip out of her clothes and step into a small shower. His gaze lingered for moments after she was hidden from our view.

  He turned his dark gaze on me, sweeping a hand through his equally dark waves he usually wore slicked away from his face. Now, it was a mess atop his head, lacking the usual polish he’d been so fond of. “Are you sure you want to go through with this? Once we cross that line we can never go back.”

  I huffed out a rugged breath, pulling the binoculars from him and setting it on the arm of the couch. Were I honest, I wasn’t sure of anything anymore, not after everything we’d already done to keep our woman safe.

  I glanced about the apartment, thinking of the millions we’d already sunk into the plan. The previous owner, a slum lord, had allowed the building to crumble around him, content in his posh upscale apartment while his tenants were forced to deal with shoddy electrical work, crumbling stucco, and a large rat infestation. Considering he’d been the only one shady enough to rent to them, most who were drug addicts or felons, they continued to pay their rent without complaint until we acquired the building nearly a year ago. Samson owed my father a considerable amount of money, a debt that while advantageous for us, left him without a dime to his name and I couldn’t care less about the asshole.

  I thought back on the night we forced him to sign over the deed. The building, even in its dilapidated state was worth three times the amount of his debts, and he’d hoped to cut a deal. He’d even offered up his seventeen year daughter to solidify the deal, willing to sell her if it meant keeping at least a portion of his wealth. He’d deemed his cushy lifestyle worth saving while his daughter could rot in hell as far as he was concerned and it had taken everything in me not to put a bullet in his brain. Vincent had no such reservations as he raised his gun and fired - the first bullet causing the man to bend forward and cup his dick as blood spurted from the wound, the next sending him into oblivion as it drilled through his skull. As the man laid dead, his body crumpled in a pool of blood and brain matter, Vincent, the crazy fucker he was, reached into his own pants, yanked out his dick and pissed on the man.

  Without a word, he tucked his cock back into his pants and pulled out his cell phone to call a cleaning crew. With a coldness I’d rarely heard from him, he barked his orders, giving the crew very specific instructions. “And make sure you deposit a nice lump sum of money into his wife’s account,” he demanded, ending the call.

  I shook my head at the memory, my eyes glancing over the only apartment we’d renovated so far. Upgrading the building had taken a considerable amount of money, money we’d had no problem parting with if it meant we’d be able to keep our woman safe, but it had nearly wiped us out. That and the money we’d spent to relocate the previous occupants.

  The apartment was huge, taking up the entire top floor of the building. With eight bedrooms and ten bathrooms, an indoor pool, a gym, and a theater, there was more than enough to space to keep everyone happy. Our guards took up residence in six of the bedrooms located on the south side of the apartment while we made a comfortable living space of the north side. The large livingroom opened to an equally large eat-in kitchen with stainless steel appliances and dark wooden cabinets.

  A smile tugged at my lips as I looked over everything. We’d had the space decorated with her in mind, knowing one day just watching her wouldn’t be enough. One day we’d claim her and if everything went well, tonight would be the night.

  “I’m sure. Is everything in place?”

  Vincent pinned me with an exasperated look. “Since when have I let you down, brother?”

  Never. Even in his craziness he’d been meticulous about everything. He’d already trained the guards and set up accounts for their families should something happen to them. They knew the risks they were taking and were more than willing to put their lives on the line for us. Still, we needed to ensure they had no reason to cross us. He’d laid out all the rules, hired all the staff required to keep her safe and comfortable. At least as comfortable as we could considering she had no idea what we were up to, or even that we existed.

  “The invitation?” I asked.

  “Bran assured me it will be delivered in an hour. Do you really think she’ll go along with this?”

  The uncertainty in his voice had me wondering the same thing. Were it up to me, we’d play the long game with her, starting with seeking out her favorite spots to hang out and slowly giving her a chance to get to know us. But with my father’s men getting closer to discovering her whereabouts, we had to move quickly. Vincent had drafted a proposal he was certain she couldn’t refuse. With her mother in the hospital, the medical bills were piling up and her waitressing gig hadn’t been enough to cover the costs, even with the large sums we’ve contributed to that bill ourselves. The proposal was simple, one night in exchange for five hundred grand, enough to cover the medical bills and leave her with enough to make her comfortable for a while. Sex was purely optional.

  Without much thought, she’d agreed to the terms.

  An ache rose in my chest as I thought about what we’d done, what had led us to this point of desperation. One act of kindness I’d shown had taken everything away from this woman years ago, and now, once again, I found myself in a difficult situation.

  “I’m probably overthinking it,” Vincent said when he’d grown tired of waiting for a response. A smile curved his lips. “We do, however, have another matter that needs our immediate attention.”

  I quirked a brow at him. “And what would that be?”

  Vincent stepped away from the window and walked past me into the kitchen. Dragging out a bottle of vodka from the cabinet, he set out two glasses and filled them to the brim. Whatever it was, it wa
s serious, considering the amount of alcohol he poured into the glass. Someone was going to die or end up in the hospital with at least a few broken bones.

  He approached me, handed me a glass and took his seat on the couch, pushing one arm over the back of it. He raised his glass before taking down almost half of it in one swallow. While most assumed he drank before every kill as a way to cope with what he was doing, I knew the truth of it. Something my father had done to him after I’d defied him was too much for him to bare. He’d never been the same after that, his mind delving into the darkest corners to escape or embrace the horrors he’d seen. I didn’t know which it was but he seemed to love the darkness and I’d support him either way.

  “A certain chef crossed the line today.”

  So the fucker finally grew some balls. What a shame. I couldn’t say I was surprised. We’d bugged the place the day June was hired to work there and watching the way he’d treated her already had us on edge. But there was rules in place that prevented us from taking action. So long as he continued to line Father’s pockets, he was reasonably safe. That was until he crossed the line.

  2

  June

  Though I hated to complain about trivial things, especially after all I’d been through, I had to admit, today had been a really bad day. I was pulled from my sleep by my phone ringing incessantly in the quiet room, its sound bouncing from the walls and causing my head to ache. I’d stumbled out of bed, twisting my ankle in the process. The sun hadn’t even begun to shed its rays through my window, meaning whoever it was felt their reasons for calling was important enough to drag me from my sleep and that could only be one person.